


Little Strands of Paradise

by rakshapophis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Feelings of Nostalgia, Fluff, M/M, McCree plays the guitar, Songfic, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-21 19:59:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8258662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rakshapophis/pseuds/rakshapophis
Summary: A restless cowboy reminisces about his past and thinks about the present over some guitar chords.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [floofy_altaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofy_altaria/gifts).



> While listening through my songs on shuffle, I came across a hidden gem that immediately reminded me of our favorite gunslinger, and after going crazy over it with my friend, she came up with a little scenario that inspired me to write this.
> 
> So, I shall gift it to her.
> 
> Happy (late) birthday Simone!

“Out of all times for insomnia to kick in…”

The cowboy muttered under his breath, pacing around the corridors of the building. Despite lacking his usual boots, his steps were still heavy, partially due to tiredness, but mostly due to annoyance. It had been the longest streak of nights of sleep he had gotten in the base up to this night, but of course, his own body had to boycott him in some way.

After all, there’s no rest for the damned.

McCree had already completed his usual no-sleep routine twice, and not wanting to drown himself in any more chamomile tea, he decided on tiring himself out by walking around the building. Maybe seeing the same, oh so familiar white and silver walls of the watchpoint would bore him out of his mind and induce him to sleep. Unfortunately, by far, the tactic wasn’t working. In fact, it had only server to annoy the man further, which consequently washed away any sign of sleepiness he might have had in him.

God damn it.

After passing by his room’s door for the thirteenth time, McCree decided that maybe staying in bed would do him better than exhausting himself. He would thank himself in the morning for not giving himself sore legs for no motive. Unlocking the door, he was given access to his chambers, almost immediately stumbling towards his bed and sprawling himself on the mattress, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He hoped not to have awoken anyone during his little “stroll” around the base, or else he would probably have some less-than-happy teammates knocking on his door soon enough, and he didn’t need any more trouble for himself. With the door automatically locking once again, any light from the corridor vanished, leaving him in darkness for a moment.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, some moonlight shone faintly through the gaps on the blinds, allowing him to make out some of the details around his room. Maybe he could find something to entertain himself since his body didn’t allow him to get some rest. A few articles of clothing piled on the ground, a monitor perfectly attached to the wall, the simple wardrobe present in every bedroom at the base, his Peacekeeper resting on the bedside table… the last one being certainly a tempting option. He had considered going to the training range to clear his mind and let off some steam at the training bots, but had also considered the noise his trusty gun made, and how it could echo throughout the base easily.

No shooting tonight, then.

Jesse let out a displeased groan, completely unsure what to do to rid himself of this boredom. He sat up in bed, frowning as he examined the corners his vision could’t reach from his lying position. At first, nothing of interest could be spotted amidst mundane items, until he finally caught glimpse of a familiar shape near the end of his bed. It sat propped against the wall, wooden structure lightly illuminated by the moon. His frown slowly faded, as he reached over to grab the instrument and examine it closely. It had been a while since he had last held his old guitar like this, taking his time to feel the scratched wood in his hands, memories of the old days resurfacing as he traced a finger over a string. It was most definitely out of tune from not being interacted with for a while, but that could be fixed in a minute.

A little smile crept onto his lips. He had found his entertainment for the night.

Instrument in hand, he slipped on some sneakers, not wanting to cause much noise with the spurs on his usual boots, and stepped out into the corridor once again, this time heading out to the watchpoint’s outside. The night sky was clear, the warm spring weather softened by a light breeze. The perfect weather for a little midnight jam session. Well, a one man jam session.

McCree set out towards the cliffside, far enough from the base’s main building, near a rocky formation, and sat down on the ground, taking a moment to appreciate the view of the sea at night. Watchpoint Gibraltar surely had one hell of a view, as the man himself would put it. Soon enough Jesse returned to the task at hand, strumming the guitar experimentally before fiddling with the tuning machines, getting the instrument back into a playable state in no time. Testing out a few simpler chords to get himself used to playing again, he soon swapped to a more elaborate tune, fingers dancing across the strings as if he was born to do so. Boy, he had forgotten how great it felt to play like this, and soon enough he found himself grinning at the marvelous sensation of making music.

So many melodies from his younger years flooded his mind, songs from the past millennium, songs from before he was born, songs from his childhood, and he suddenly remembered how to play them once again. And he played them so, letting his mind focus solely on the sound he made. He let himself get lost in the music.

So lost, in fact, that he hadn’t heard light footsteps approaching, not even noticed the presence of another person close to him.

“Unable to sleep?”

A familiar voice asked from beside him, prompting McCree to stop his playing and face the source of the sound.

Kneeling down next to him was the elder Shimada, eyes focused on the night sky. His posture seemed less cautious than usual, and the lack of a bow in his person meant a friendly approach, thankfully. Hanzo rarely let his guard down near others, save for a few exceptions, and being one of these exceptions made McCree feel like he had accomplished the most amazing of feats, even if he was unsure how he got the man’s trust in the first place. Not that he was complaining about it.

A relieved sigh left McCree’s lips at the sight of his friend.

“Almost scared me right outta my skin there, partner.”

“It is unusual for you to be outside at this hour.”

“You could say my mind decided to work the night shift.”

He scoffed, setting the guitar on his lap.

“Reckon it’s ‘cause the moon’s too bright tonight.”

Hanzo hummed in acknowledgement, glancing over at the other man, and then at the guitar on lis lap.

“I was not aware you knew how to play an instrument.”

He noted, eyeing McCree with curiosity.

It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know about this information, specially since he had joined Overwatch very recently, and Jesse hadn’t touched his guitar in that meantime.

“I’ve known how to since I was a lil’ rascal, mama taught me and haven’t forgotten since.”

Hanzo nodded curtly, seeming interested in the topic. They fell silent for a minute, watching the ocean water rippling from the cliff. As Jesse dared to glance over at the archer, he could notice he looked somewhat skittish, bothered by something in his mind. What could possibly be bothering him?

He almost jumped when Hanzo turned to face him. He was unsure due to the lack of proper lighting, but he could swear the man was blushing ever so slightly.

“…could you, play something for me?”

At first, Jesse wasn’t sure he had heard that right, but since Hanzo hand’t corrected himself or scolded McCree for staring at him like he was from another planet, it was most definitely a legitimate request. Hanzo Shimada had asked him to play him a song. It wasn’t a dream. He had spaced out for a moment to process the information, the sudden movement of an embarrassed looking Hanzo shifting in his seat snapping him back to reality.

How could he deny such a polite request?

“Sure thing! Do you, uh, have any song preferences?”

“Anything you choose shall suffice.”

Oh boy. The pressure to choose an appropriate song was proving to be a bit too much for such an informal situation. Yet he couldn’t help but feel as if it was a decision of outmost importance, specially since it was something for Hanzo, the man he had undeniably developed some less-than-professional feelings for. Leaving a bad impression on him would definitely be one of the worst things to do if he wanted to get closer to the Shimada.

As if right on cue, the brief memory of his mother humming a familiar melody crossed his thoughts.

The melody of a song that had accompanied him throughout the years.

Perfect.

Picking the guitar back up, he picked at the strings, trying to reproduce the harmony of the song as he remembered from his youth.

Thankfully, he still knew it by heart.

He cleared his throat, strumming the guitar with expertise, memories flooding his mind at the nostalgic sound.

 

_A young boy sat on the porch of his home, his mother beside him, singing with her guitar in hand. The warm summer breeze blew through the fields, moon beginning to rise up in the sky as the cicadas almost seemed to cry along with the melody._

“Waitin’ on the day,

When my thoughts are my own.

When this house is my home,

And plans are made.”

_The same young boy lied sprawled across an old mattress on the floor of an old warehouse, the place closest to what he could call home at the time. He had left behind the old life he once had, and along with said life, his old family also stayed. With a new life, came new responsibilities, even if not the most noble of them, and a new unconventional family welcomed him with open arms. The warmth of a mother’s hug was no more, instead replaced by playful shoves and punches. Certainly a different reality, but one he could grow used to. As he laid staring at the broken ceiling, heart trying to push aside the slight pang of regret he felt, he found himself humming the same tune his mother used to sing._

“I’m waitin’ on the day.

When my life on the run

Bleaches out in the sun

And shows my age.”

_The young boy was forced to grow up fast, adjusting to a harsh environment that could take his life at any moment if he didn’t pull the trigger quick enough. He had become the main character of tales told across the region, praising the swiftness and aim of the young gunslinger. He had become a fearless young man, and his family couldn’t feel any prouder. Even at the face of danger, when he found himself staring at far too many guns aimed at him, the young man would show no fear, striking down those who stood in his way. While walking through those who had fallen before him, he would sing the old song from his childhood, reminiscing about the old farmhouse where his heart still belonged. He was still a child deep inside._

“Waitin’ on the day,

When that voice comes to say

That it’s not wrong what you did for just a kid.”

_His family had left him behind this time. He was abandoned and left at the mercy of the organization named Overwatch, which seemingly wanted his severed head on a silver plate. For an organization which prided itself in being heroic, that wasn’t the most heroic of intentions. Amidst those who saw no good in him, a man with a threatening expression came forward, with dark eyes that carried empathy in them despite the circumstances. The man proposed an alternative to having the young man thrown into a cell to never see the sun again. He would have to work for the threatening man, serving the same purpose he did in his last family, but for a more noble cause. The young man closed a deal with the threatening man. He had found a new family once again._

_“Jesse! play something for us!”_

_An enthusiastic young girl exclaimed, pulling at the bottom of the young man’s shirt. He carried an old guitar, a gift sent in by his mother to symbolize her forgiveness for his wrongdoing. He smiled, reaching a hand down to ruffle the young girl’s hair, glancing over at the other agents sitting in the common room. They all had smiles on their faces, eyes bright and filled with expectative. They were his companions._

_His family._

_“Reckon one song wouldn’t hurt…”_

 

Jesse hadn’t noticed how he’d been smiling throughout the song. It wasn’t often that he let himself delve in his past for so long, but for some reason, that song had some sort of power over him. So many memories dear to him resurfaced during a simple guitar playing session.

However, those memories were in the past, and he had to go back to the present. The present where the subject of his affections sat close to him while being serenaded.

He glanced over at Hanzo, whose gaze was fixated upon him, an awestruck expression on his face. The archer seemed to be quite entertained by his playing, which most definitely got McCree’s spirits even higher. Never would he have thought that he would have Hanzo Shimada feel impressed at something he did, much less by doing such a simple thing like playing him a cheesy old song.

Well, if that was the key to his heart, he wasn’t complaining.

“When you’ll be there for me baby.

When you’ll love me all the way.

When you’ll take my side in every little fire fight.

When you’ll hang your things and stay.”

The archer’s expression seemed to change ever so slightly as McCree sang the verse. It still carried the same wonder as before, but now, he was smiling. It would’ve been almost unnoticeable, if not for the fact that any kind of smile was such a drastic change to his normal expression. It made McCree’s heart skip a beat.

“Oh, can you do it baby?

Can you love me all the way?

Will you tie me tight in little strands of paradise?

Will you walk with me before the morning fades?

I’m waitin’ on the day.”

With that, he strummed the guitar one last time, bringing the song to an end. A sigh escaped his lips, as he felt relieved of the tension from earlier that night, as well as fulfilled. After all, it’s not everyday that the one you long for asks you to play them a song. And apparently, Jesse had done well in doing so. At least, he thought so.

“…so, how’s that for a-“

His question was cut short by the sudden weight of Hanzo leaning against his side, head resting upon his shoulder. McCree wasn’t sure how he was still alive, as the action had made his heart stop. And if that wasn’t enough, Hanzo’s smile had grown significantly, rendering the cowboy breathless.

“…it was delightful. Thank you very much, Jesse.”

At that moment, Jesse McCree swore he could die happy.

"Well, thank you kindly! Glad you enjoyed it."

Once again, silence took over.. Jesse took the opportunity to appreciate the closeness between them, wondering if he would ever get another chance like this in his life. The silence was short lived however, as the archer had another request to make.

"...if it is not too bothersome, I would love to hear another song."

Jesse couldn't hold back his smile.

"...Reckon one more song wouldn't hurt."

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious about the song Jesse played, it's a cropped version of Waitin' On The Day by John Mayer.
> 
> Go listen to it, I assure you won't regret it!


End file.
